“Tell me what?” the woman in question asked, stepping into the hallway with her ever-present notebook pressed to her chest.
Zayed took in her gorgeous figure draped in pink and he nearly groaned as the lust from last night came back at him, as powerfully as if he’d just kissed her.
“You left your hair down,” he commented stupidly. “Braided. I like it.”
Tara ran her fingers down the thick braid. He hadn’t realized how long her hair was. “I might need to put it up later if it gets in my way.”
He moved closer to her, towering over her slender figure as he noted how soft her green eyes looked while she wore the delicate color. “I like it.”
“You mentioned that,” she replied, her voice sounding breathless.
“It bears repeating.”
She smiled and he cursed when he noticed the matching pink of her cheeks.
“You can’t do that when we’re not alone, Tara,” he muttered softly. Taking her hand, he started to lead her down the hallway, only to come to a stop when he noticed a tall, dark haired man standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked smug with narrowed eyes, watching the interaction between himself and Tara.
“Right!” Tara hissed. “I was coming to tell you that Sheik Abuzman has arrived.” She glanced at the handsome man over her shoulder. “I suggested that he wait in the dining room for you.”
Zayed muttered something under his breath and Tara suspected that it wasn’t anything polite. She knew Arabic, but hadn’t bothered to learn the naughty words. Still, his clenched jaw made her smile for some reason.
“Abuzman!” Zayed called out, walking over to the man with his hand extended. “Thank you for coming today. It seems that we have several issues to discuss.”
The man shifted the coffee cup in one hand and shook Zayed’s with the other. He had a firm grip, which Zayed appreciated. That hadn’t really been in doubt since the man stood as tall as he did. Zayed figured he had about twenty pounds of muscle on the bastard. But that didn’t make Abuzman any less of a threat.
“It was such a pleasure to agree to your kind invitation,” the man replied smoothly.
Zayed understood the sarcasm in the words and couldn’t help the chuckle. “It worked, didn’t it?” referring to the challenge that had gotten him to agree to the negotiations.
“Only because I’m curious. We’ve never spoken face to face.”
“I figured that it was time to resolve some of our differences instead of lobbing diplomatic obstacles in each other’s ways,” Zayed replied. “Why don’t we have some breakfast and discuss the issues?”
Abuzman looked around. “You didn’t invite your friends, Ramit and Falk?”
They moved into the dining room where a pretty new waitress stepped into the room to pour coffee. Zayed watched the woman, wondering why she looked so familiar. But the woman kept her eyes lowered as she expertly poured thesteaming hot coffee before stepping back to press her back against the wall. Zayed started to dismiss the woman, until he realized that his “friend” was staring at the waitress as well.
“Your plan to decrease the border agents is going to slow down the commercial trucking industry,” Zayed interjected, shoving a plate into Abuzman’s hands, hoping to distract him from the pretty waitress. “That’s going to increase the labor costs, which will, in turn, increase the cost of products to your people.”
Zayed looked around for Tara, wondering where she’d gone. She generally sat in on meetings like this one. Had something happened to her?
A moment later, the woman in question rushed in and perched on a chair near the wall.
“Tara, get some breakfast and join us,” Zayed commanded.
She hesitated, then stood up, looking confused and nervous. “I’m fine, Your Highness.”
Zayed’s eyes narrowed and he looked over at her again. Then something occurred to him. “Abuzman, I should introduce you to my fiancée, Ms. Tara Treon. She’s been…” He paused when he heard a gasp. Glancing over at the wall, the waitress who had been holding the coffee urn had vanished, the door to the kitchen swinging closed.
That was odd. But he ignored the disturbance and reached out a hand, waiting patiently until Tara put her cold fingers into his hand. Only then did he pull her forward. “Tara, this is…”
“I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Treon,” the man replied. “Please, call me Riaz.” He glanced over at Zayed with an oddsmile to his features. “After all, I am here to figure out how to work through the obstacles between our two countries, correct?”
He was right, but Zayed wasn’t sure that he wanted Tara to be on familiar terms with the man. However, it seemed petty to object, especially over breakfast.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” Tara replied, adding a pretty curtsy. “However, the relationship between myself and Sheik el Mastrion has not yet been finalized.”
Zayed didn’t like that. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “We have a few minor details to work out, but we’ll be married very soon.”